


The Scars We Gain

by fallenandthefaithless



Series: November prompts [5]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: DoS - Freeform, Laketown, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Thorin's a bit protective, discussion of scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 04:33:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16548971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenandthefaithless/pseuds/fallenandthefaithless
Summary: It was late when Bilbo finally found the strength to venture downstairs by himself. He could hear the snores of sleeping dwarves all throughout the house and assumed they would all be asleep. He really should have known better.





	The Scars We Gain

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my November Prompts day 5 (a bit behind I know). This is inspired by the prompt 'scar worship'.

It was late when Bilbo finally found the strength to venture downstairs by himself. He could hear the snores of sleeping dwarves all throughout the house and assumed they would all be asleep. He really should have known better.

Thorin was sitting by the dwindling fire, staring into its depths and didn’t seem to notice when Bilbo entered the room. Bilbo hesitated for a moment before he continued on into the kitchen. He found a dented kettle on the stove which he filled with water and left to boil. He then searched for the tea he knew was stashed in here somewhere and was grateful to find it in one of the lower cupboards. He took his time organising two mugs and when the kettle finally boiled he poured the water out carefully. All the while he listened out to see if Thorin had moved but the only noise he could hear was the quiet pop of the fire.

Once the tea was done he carried the two mugs out to the sitting room to find that Thorin hadn’t moved an inch. He bit back a sigh and instead made his way over to the dwarf-king who startled when Bilbo sat beside him.

‘Bilbo? What are you doing up?’ he asked but Bilbo didn’t respond and merely passed him a mug of tea. Thorin stared at it for a moment as though he’d never seen one before and then he slowly took hold of it. 

‘I felt like a cuppa,’ Bilbo explained. Thorin looked at him steadily for a long moment before he turned his attention back to the mug in his hand. They sat in silence for a few minutes slowly sipping on their tea, Thorin’s gaze fixed on the fire once more and Bilbo’s darting between the flames and his tea.

‘You’re feeling better?’ Thorin finally broke the silence and Bilbo blinked, his thoughts scattering and he glanced at the dwarf who hadn’t looked away from the flames. 

‘Ah, yes. Much better - water doesn’t really agree with Hobbits,’ he commented and was pleased when Thorin’s lips turned upwards and he looked towards Bilbo. ‘We don’t need to delay on my behalf any longer.’

Thorin frowned at that and shook his head. ‘That wasn’t why I asked,’ he said, his voice low. Bilbo fought the urge to swallow and instead took a hasty sip of tea to help his suddenly dry mouth.

He didn’t say anything more until Thorin, frowning once more, suddenly reached out and grazed Bilbo’s wrist with his fingers. Bilbo twitched, tea almost spilling over the edge of his mug with his sudden movement and he turned to look at what Thorin was doing.

His fingers had grazed one of the cuts Bilbo had received from the barrel ride down the river and now that it was pointed out Bilbo looked over his hands with a sudden morbid curiosity. A few more marks to join the scars that were his growing collection.

‘From the barrels,’ he explained. ‘My grip slipped a little.’

‘I didn’t know you were hurt more than your cold,’ Thorin said and Bilbo snorted.

‘A few scratches are nothing to worry about Thorin.’

‘Oin could have patched you up,’ he insisted but Bilbo shook his head.

‘These are nothing - I’ve had far worse, back home and on this journey. And I’m sure I will receive worse still, considering the dragon ahead of us and all.’

Bilbo regretted mentioning the dragon almost immediately as Thorin’s face darkened and he looked away, his gaze searching out the window which faced the direction of the Lonely Mountain even if they couldn’t see it.

‘You won’t,’ Thorin said softly. ‘I won’t let you.’

Bilbo smiled helplessly at the ridiculous dwarf and whatever tension had remained in his shoulders vanished as he sank back into the chair, his shoulder pressing lightly against Thorin’s.

‘Good luck with that,’ he said lightly. ‘I find myself gaining new scars at a rather shocking rate. I knew adventures were only for the foolhardy and here is my final proof.’ He grinned when Thorin looked around at him bemusedly.

‘I see no proof,’ he replied, a small smile appearing in his own face and Bilbo, delighted at this reaction, huffed and shook his head.

‘Of course you don’t, but then again you are the adventurous type.’

‘And you are not?’

‘Far from it. Nasty things, adventures.’

‘You say miles from home, Master Burglar.’

‘I haven’t stolen anything,’ Bilbo said indignantly before adding, ‘yet.’

‘So you aren’t the halfling that stole a dozen dwarves from the Elvenking?’

‘Not half of anything, thank you very much,’ Bilbo retorted on instinct before smiling. ‘And I believe I was merely regaining what he himself had stolen.’

Thorin laughed at that, his low chuckle ringing out across the room and warming Bilbo far more effectively than the fire. They were silent once more, slowly finishing off their tea. When Bilbo lowered his now empty mug was when Thorin broke the silence between them.

‘You said you had new scars,’ he began before he hesitated. ‘How - when did you get them? I don’t remember you getting injured that badly.’

‘They were only small things,’ Bilbo said airily. ‘My sword slipped when… with Azog,’ he stumbled over the words, still unable to quite believe what he had done that night. ‘Here.’ He put his mug on the ground before he shook back the sleeves on his coat, revealing the fine white scar on his left palm. Without speaking Thorin placed his own mug down and slowly reached out for Bilbo’s hand. His fingers were gentle as they traced over the scar before they found another further down his arm on his wrist.

‘What about this one?’

‘Hmm? Oh, I think that must have happened down in the Goblin tunnels. I didn’t realise until later.’

Thorin didn’t say anything but gently traced that one as well. He then reached out for Bilbo’s other hand and turned it over, finding the recent scratches from the barrels. Bilbo didn’t pull back but he also didn’t say anything. His cheeks were far too warm and he was grateful that Thorin was too busy staring at his hands to look at his face.

‘And this one?’

Bilbo, dragged once more from his thoughts, looked down to see Thorin was now tracing an old scar across his right pinkie finger and he chuckled.

‘A terrible battle,’ he said, his smile growing as Thorin looked up at him with a puzzled expression. ‘Truly horrifying. And I lost it… to the garden fork.’

Thorin stared at him for a moment before he started laughing again. He continued to trace the scar without thought is seemed and Bilbo’s smile widened.

‘A true battle,’ Thorin said softly and Bilbo nodded with a sniff.

‘I’m glad you agree.’

Silence fell between them once more but one Bilbo was content to leave alone. Thorin didn’t let go of Bilbo’s hand, his thumb no longer rubbing against a scar but the back of Bilbo’s hand instead. 

The fire slowly dimmed further and Bilbo could feel his eyelids growing heavier. He must have started to doze off because it was Thorin’s voice that startled him back to awareness.

‘I wish you hadn’t gained anymore scars,’ he whispered. 

‘I don’t,’ he whispered back, the silence suddenly feeling heavy and he was scared to disturb it too much. ‘I don’t regret it, Thorin.’

Thorin’s thumb stilled and Bilbo feared he was going to let go for a moment before he squeezed Bilbo’s hand tightly in his own.

‘I’m still sorry.’

‘Don’t be,’ he whispered before he squeezed back. ‘It was all worth it. This is your home. It’s worth it.’

Thorin didn’t say anything though his grip didn’t lessen. Bilbo didn’t need him to speak though and instead pushed himself upright. 

‘We’ll fall asleep here if we’re not careful.’

Thorin sighed before he got his feet, gently pulling Bilbo up with him. They stood there for a moment before Bilbo gently untangled his fingers and went about picking up their mugs which he took back to the kitchen. By the time he returned to the sitting room Thorin had put out the fire and the only light was from the moon shining in through the window.

He crossed the room until he was standing next to Bilbo and he gestured for Bilbo to lead the way up the stairs to the bedrooms.

Their footsteps were soft as they went upstairs and down the hallways until they stood outside their bedroom doors. Bilbo, due to being sick for the past few days, was in a room by himself but from Thorin’s room he could hear the faint snores from Fili and Kili.

‘Good night, Thorin,’ he said quietly. Thorin stepped forward and for a moment Bilbo couldn’t breathe as they stood in silence with barely a foot of space between them. 

‘Good night, Bilbo,’ he finally said before he reached a hand up a brushed Bilbo’s fringe aside and his fingers grazed against his hairline above his right eye and Bilbo knew what he must have spotted in the moonlight.

‘Also from the Shire,’ he whispered, unwilling to explain the Fell Winter now, not with the cold creeping in and the shadow of the Mountain falling across the land. Thorin stared at him for a long moment before he let Bilbo’s hair fall back into place.

‘Sleep well, Bilbo.’

He slipped away into his room and closed the door behind him, leaving Bilbo standing on the landing alone, the skin along his hairline tingling with the ghost of Thorin’s fingers. It was a long time before Bilbo managed to fall asleep that night.


End file.
